


Creature Comforts

by semele



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-20 07:11:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 5,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2419730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semele/pseuds/semele
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A complete collection of Bellamy/Raven ficlets written for various tumblr prompt memes. Ratings vary from PG to NC-17. There are no s2 spoilers -- all the ficlets were written before the season premiere.</p><p>In each ficlet, the prompt serves as a chapter title.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Marriage Proposal

On the Ark, marriage was for the selected few.

Everyone was allowed to marry, of course, but there were laws around it that made you think twice; laws about children, about custody, genetics and divorce. It took a lot of effort to prevent overpopulation as well as inbreeding, and, unsurprisingly, it wasn’t exactly the Chancellor or his Council for whom this sucked the most.

So when Raven blurts out: “Let’s get married,” Bellamy, his feet firmly on the ground, laughs more freely than he has in months.

"Is next Thursday good for you?" he asks, and Raven nods with a wolfish grin.

"You sure?" she adds after a few seconds, because, apparently, old habits die hard. That’s what she would’ve asked if they were still on the Ark. Bellamy shrugs.

"You’re not going to ask me if I already have a kid?" he asks mockingly. Raven rolls her eyes.

"I’m going to divorce you at least once," she says with sudden seriousness, and Bellamy knows that it won’t be just because she can.

"Okay," he replies simply, because, really.

The worst that can happen is that it doesn’t work.


	2. A sexy touch in a not necessarily sexy place

Raven likes warmth.

Bellamy feels kind of silly for not having caught on this sooner — on how she always huddles really close to the fire, and hardly ever lets go of that ridiculous jacket of hers. It’s funny that a person so tough would like a thing so simple, but here it is. Raven Reyes, the heat seeker.

So he lets her have it.

It starts simply enough, or as simply as anything between them can be — his hands traveling up and down her naked back when she’s on top of him, and his feet enveloping hers when she’s resting. She pretends not to notice, so he keeps doing it without thinking why he even bothers. It’s a thing he does. He enjoys keeping Raven warm.

So when they return from yet another small battle with the Mountain Men, and he’s fine but Raven is bruised, he gets her a bowl of hot water before she can even ask. There doesn’t seem to be much blood except on her hands, and and at first Bellamy is sure that most of it isn’t hers, but the he thinks again. One of her makeshift bombs must’ve gone off way too close, because her hands are ice cold and covered in small, shallow cuts.

He washes them carefully, inch after painful inch, but there’s nothing he can do to warm them. For a second he considers asking Raven to simply soak them, but it won’t do, and neither will rubbing, so he he does the first thing that comes to his mind. He dips his head (low, low enough to keep her hands below her heart), and presses his lips to the inside of Raven’s palm.

His heart skips a beat, but she pretends not to notice.


	3. Morning Sex

Raven makes a point to never stay the night. In her mind, sleeping is someone’s bed belongs to a completely different world, to childhood sleepovers and late night talks that inevitably led to dozing off in first period Earth History. It’s not even the question of Bellamy having no place in this universe. You simply (her mother’s wisdom) don’t screw where you sleep.

So the first time Raven, exhausted by a tough day of trying to survive, falls asleep right after sex, she feels embarrassed.

She does what she always did, collects her clothes and sprints away like the devil’s chasing her, but she can’t quite unsee the silly face Bellamy makes in his sleep. When they meet in the morning by the water tank, they both have more important things to talk about.

This should be her wake-up call, and she knows it. She should start paying more attention, shouldn’t come to him so late at night, or when she’s so tired. Trouble is, she mostly wants to come to him when she’s tired, and she can’t really make herself give it up. So it happens again and again, and eventually Raven tells herself it’s okay. As long as she wakes up and leaves before dawn, it’s okay.

***

Except one night, she doesn’t.

It’s early November, and so bitterly cold she wraps herself in the warmth of Bellamy’s bed without thinking that she _shouldn’t_. “Time and place, Raven,” her mother would’ve said. “Time and place.”

Whatever. She’s tired, and she’s cold, and she wants to have something nice, just for once. So when she opens her eyes at first light, she doesn’t reach for her shirt, but leans forward, and wakes Bellamy with a kiss on his naked shoulder.

"Hi," he whispers groggily. There’s no hint of embarrassment on his face, but Raven doesn’t bother wondering why he’s so calm. She decided to break her rule, and if so, she’s going to break it loud and strong.

She kisses him slowly, enjoying the warmth of the blankets and Bellamy’s solid body. His hand immediately starts circling her hip, so she moves her leg up and lets the tips of his fingers caress her.

"Don’t," she warns when he tries to pick up the pace, and Bellamy immediately moves his hand away, just like he always does. She never lets him get her far.

But this time, Raven catches his wrist.

"Don’t speed up," she specifies. "I… I don’t want to get out of bed yet, okay?"

She can’t see if he smiles, but she likes to think he does.

He rubs her in small, lazy circles, and instead of the pressure Raven normally associates with arousal, she feels soft, steady warmth building in her belly. She doesn’t think about release, and it never comes — instead, she feels something like an overflow; a nice, easy sensation that leaves her breath even and her legs steady.

She lets herself doze off for another hour.


	4. Adopting a pet together

Bellamy understands pets in theory. On the Ark, they couldn’t have as much as pet cockroaches, but people has had pets for centuries before the Catastrophe, and Bellamy can read, so he gets it. Pets — important. Especially now that they don’t ration O2.

This, however. This, he doesn’t get.

"You couldn’t have gotten something more…"

"More what?" asks Raven provocatively.

"Just… More."

Raven shrugs.

"It’s a donkey, Bellamy. It’s not here to be pretty. Come on, I’ll let you name him."

Startled, Bellamy decides on Hermes out of sheer habit.

He isn’t sure what he expected. That Raven would get something smaller? More domestic, like dogs and cats in books? Maybe. Or maybe he just never expected Raven Reyes, of all people, would be the first person from the Ark to get a pet.

(Lies. This is exactly what he expected.)

Over the next few days, he watches Raven intently; she feeds Hermes and grooms him, but it’s only when they move camp, and Bellamy sees her burden the donkey with all the things her scarred back can no longer carry that his mind is put at ease. Now, this is the Raven they all know and love. She’d never indulge herself with something impractical.

(Every evening Raven buries her face in Hermes’ smooth neck, and slips him a carrot she gets from God knows where. This is the part Bellamy chooses not to see.

It would only confuse him.)


	5. One turning the other off

The first time Bellamy says no to her, Raven is so surprised she almost steps on a crate.

"Why not?" she asks stupidly; with her thigh pressed close to Bellamy's body, she can feel exactly why not.

"Does it have to be a reason?" he asks with a shrug. "Are you hungry? I found some apples yesterday."

Raven accepts an apple from the very crate she almost demolished mere seconds ago, and tries to swallow her bewilderment while Bellamy quickly buttons up his pants.

(Yes, yes there has to be a reason, she tries not to think. It would be an asshole thing to think.)

***

After that, she starts watching him a bit more carefully.

There is no pattern to when and how Bellamy refuses, but what's most shocking is that he never kicks her out. She's always invited to stay, to talk and share his food, and that one time he pulled away when they were already naked and panting, he even suggested she should spend the night in his bed.

"But why?" she asked, fearing that she was starting to sound like a broken record.

"Why not?" Bellamy shot back at her, and to her own surprise, Raven couldn't think of a good reason.

She stayed, just this once.

***

She only makes the connection by accident, hears Jasper's heavy footsteps outside the tent right before Bellamy breaks the kiss, takes a step back, and shoots her a funny look.

"What is it?"

"I'm waiting for you to ask me why," says Bellamy with rare directness, and everything clicks.

"You really don't like crowded places, do you?"

That earns her a smile, so, encouraged, she sits down comfortably and helps herself to the last apple from his crate.

"It didn't use to bother you," she notices as casually as she can.

"It didn't. It does now."

There are a few things she can imagine herself saying, things ranging from "Oh come on" to "I know a place," maybe even "So, what are other things you don't like?", but for some reason Raven feels there is no rush.

(There is a "Why?" hanging somewhere between them, but Bellamy is leisurely resting his hand on her calf, his thumb rubbing small circles over her sore muscles, so Raven lets herself clear her head of difficult questions.

Whatever. She is going to finish her apple first.)


	6. One leaving hickeys on the other's neck

Everyone in their camp knows.

Of course it would be weird if they didn’t. Tent walls aren’t just thin, but also semi-transparent, so they’re giving everyone quite a show, and most of The Hundred aren’t exactly a discreet type. Raven never really understood the concept of a “walk of shame” she stumbled upon in some old movies, but she gets it now. Leers from Bellamy’s minions in the morning are the last things she needs.

(It reminds her of someone, of something from the past, and she doesn’t want to remember. You sing just like her, little bird.)

She holds her head high and walks as if she didn’t see them, but for the rest of the day, she has a weird feeling that everyone is talking about her. Which, to be fair, some of them probably are. There isn’t much fresh gossip available in their camp, even after they were joined by the people from the Ark.

So next time she’s in Bellamy’s bed, embarrassment turns into anger, and she sucks a little too hard. It’s more of a real bruise than a love bite, teeth marks on tender flesh, sore, and painful, and _hers_.

It’s so bad he could probably pretend he got it while repairing the fence, but Raven has a feeling he won’t.

(Take that, Nigel.)

Bellamy never asks why she does this, kisses and sucks and bites leaving angry red marks on his neck, on his stomach and wrists. In fact, it’s so easy to assume he just doesn’t notice that eventually Raven does just that. Problem solved.

In exchange, she lets him lead her outside the fence and to a beautiful ravine where he kneels between her legs, and just this once goes down on her like he means it. It’s loud and messy, and leaves Raven with finger-shaped bruises in the flesh of her hip, but fair is fair, she thinks as she pushes her hips up. It’s a fair trade, push for push and bruise for bruise, a compensation for how she keeps making curious eyes focus on him instead of her.

(You were saying, little bird?)

In half an hour, they’ll have to head back home. That’s just enough time to forget how tenderly she stroked his hair.


	7. Their first huge fight as a 'non couple'

At first, she doesn’t notice.

Bellamy is rather subtle and quiet in how he does it, and hey, it’s not like Raven has any business hanging out with the big fish. She’s an engineer, not a politician, and she can’t be bothered to change it, because, honestly, she doesn’t like people that much. She isn’t good at dealing with them unless she can intimidate them with a bit of brashness and her mad skill set, and Raven Reyes hates things she isn’t good at. So Kane, Bellamy and Jasper can all go float themselves; she’s not going to waste her time listening to some policy-making crap.

So the first time Bellamy manipulates a plan so that she’s kept out of harm’s way, she doesn’t notice until weeks later.

(At least now she thinks it was the first time, and it doesn’t make much sense to ask him to confirm.)

"You can’t do this," she yells in frustration, and her tongue feels like it was made of wood, stiff and uncooperative, because she can’t even begin to tell him, can’t even begin to explain…

"You were safe there," shouts Bellamy as if he didn’t understand that this was precisely the problem.

Raven storms out of his tent with her head held high, and she walks all the way across the camp, her steps straight and sure, until she doubles over with pain in the safety of her own bed.

They don’t speak for a week.

***

The second time, Bellamy doesn’t even try to be crafty; he’s desperate and almost needy, as if he were grasping for straws.

Raven is facing off with him at the gate, her backpack heavy against her leg as she crosses her arms and rolls her eyes in frustration. They need to set up a new camp, and they need to do it yesterday; a more permanent and secure camp with better access to resources. But first they have to find a new place, and so an expedition is sent out. They barely have four engineers between them, and that’s counting an unqualified blue collar worker who spent her evenings on the Ark fixing small devices from her neighbors’ quarters. None of them knows much about civil engineering, but what choice do they have? Everyone who knows anything needs to go.

Raven needs to go.

"You’re staying," tries Bellamy forcefully, and just for a wink, he moves his hand towards her as if he wanted to protectively cover her lower back with his palm. Raven hates him so much she could rip him to shreds.

"Like hell I am."

"You’re going to slow us down."

"I wasn’t aware this was a race."

She doesn’t know why she’s even trying to convince him. It’s not like he could stop her, no matter how much he wants to. Things changed in the camp, and right now Bellamy only has as much power as he can wrestle out of Kane’s hands bit by bit.

"I’m not your sister," she says with purposeful cruelty, and watches, satisfied, as Bellamy’s face goes white like a sheet.

(“I’m not an invalid,” she will never ever say, because she hates to think what his face would look like if she did.)

***

(One day, she’ll jump in front of a bullet to knock him out of its way, and they will roll away unscathed, gripping each other like vice.

But that comes later.)


	8. Come here

Bellamy is ridiculous when he’s tired.

He’s snappish, of course, irritable and prickly, but at some point, all the fight goes out of him, and all that’s left are sore muscles and weary bones, muddled thoughts and painfully dry eyes.

That’s when he gets needy.

(Raven will never tell.)

Like this one night, after four days of running on biscuits and fear. “Come here,” he says in a groggy voice as if he had the right; as if they were some kind of sleeping buddies or one of fifty other cliches.

(They are a cliche. Just not this one.)

"Shove it," she wants to tell him out of habit, but instead she finds herself following his hand with her weary eyes, watching his fingers as they tries to rub some alertness into his face. Raven is used to men asking for things they have no right to as of her, and she has all the answers lined up and ready, but this time, none of them seems to fit.

(Fine, so she’s tired too. Big deal.)

If she spends the night in his tent, her body wrapped around Bellamy’s as he covers her hand with his, they never mention it again.


	9. Comfort sex

Raven always thought that sex was something you did when you were in love. It’s what she read in a book that one time, and back then it looked like a thing just for her, sharp and strong, and setting her apart exactly like she needed.

And it felt good, oh God it felt so good, large hands on her hips, and hot lips on her neck; and if he touched her just there, it made her sing like a little bird.

Oh well. Bygones.

Now Bellamy’s hands rest firmly on her shoulder blades as his lips envelop her nipple, slowly and with a touch of teeth, wrongwrongwrong, ask her if she cares. She wouldn’t let him at first, pushed him away at the first sign of pleasure, but then she realized just how much it didn’t matter anymore, so what the hell?

And she’d missed, oh how she’d missed it, the touches and kisses and shortness of breath. Raven Reyes isn’t the kind of person to go without sex.

(Without the deep sleep that comes afterwards, hand in needy hand; everyone needs some creature comforts.)

She whispers Bellamy’s name as she comes, careful not to love him.


	10. Moonshine

Bellamy doesn’t think he’s ever been drunk before.

Feeding three with the rations for two made him nothing if not frugal, and moonshine always sounded like an excess he didn’t even think about. Not even _after_ , when he was all alone and technically could afford a little more. Old habits, it seems, really do die hard.

So when Raven comes to him with a bottle, it’s even more bizarre than that one time she came for sex.

"I thought you weren’t supposed to drink," he points out, moving his hand in the general direction of her lower back. "Doctor’s orders?"

"Are you going to let me in or not?"

Like she doesn’t know he has no choice.

The first few rounds is a bit hard to swallow, even though Bellamy already started getting used to Monty’s moonshine. Raven doesn’t mess around, she pours shot after shot and downs them with intensity that could probably slice rocks.

Then Bellamy catches himself thinking that Raven could probably slice rocks just by staring at them, which makes him consider they might be drinking a bit too fast.

Or at least too fast for him, because Raven seems to get a bit sharper after every round, and Bellamy can practically see her problems shaping up in her mind instead of slowly melting away.

"Wanna tell me what we’re celebrating?" he asks, trying to buy some time.

"We’re alive. Hooray."

Seems a bit late to celebrate that. Or too early. It’s hard to tell with them. So Bellamy shrugs, grabs his mug, and downs round five without further questions.

(In the morning, he is too hungover to realize that this was the first time he let someone go without further questions.)


	11. Dare

Raven’s tent is off-limits.

It’s one of the not-really-rules they never officially established — it’s Raven who comes to his him, never the other way round. Truth to be told, Bellamy doesn’t really care.

(Most nights he’s so exhausted he falls asleep immediately, then tosses and turns for five hours, and wakes with a heavy feeling that today’s another day when he’s going to fuck something up.)

Mornings are sorry little spectacles, cold and dull and groggy. After the ever-present electric lights of the Ark, the winter months on the ground look washed out of color, and Bellamy catches himself stopping to rub his eyes fifty times a day, because he keeps having a feeling that something is wrong with his eyesight. There’s a cruel, deep chill that seems to have settled in his bones for good. That’s something the books never mentioned, and Bellamy often wonders if that’s what Earth really is — fear, dim lights, and wretched, damp mist that freezes your spine to your innards. Maybe you just get used to it eventually.

(Maybe that’s what stops people from falling apart when there are no machines keeping them afloat.)

By the time Bellamy crawls out of his tent, Raven is usually up and about, and judging by how she’s gritting her teeth every day, she’s not a great fan of November mornings either.

At least that’s what she needs him to think, and a thought is a small enough thing. Bellamy can do this for her.

Raven walks cautiously, her inner energy somehow subdued by the frosty autumn wind, but her eyes are sharp as ever, challenging and alert, and Bellamy knows she’ll notice every misstep.

"Morning," says Bellamy as he extends to her a tin mug with today’s ration. It earns him no more than a nod of acknowledgement, but that’s okay. He doesn’t feel like talking either.

They eat together in silence, as if they didn’t see each other naked just last night, or maybe four days ago; that was then, and this is now. There is time and place for everything.

Some days, Raven stumbles as she gets up to go to her workshop.

Bellamy freezes mid-motion, his hand extended slightly, oh fuck, he did it again. Raven holds his gaze as she takes a big gulp of air, then another, I dare you, I fucking dare you, don’t you fucking dare. Eventually she manages to straighten up, pull her feet together as she bites her lip and sends Bellamy’s extended hand an accusatory stare. We have rules, she reminds him silently, and I don’t want, don’t need your pity.

Bellamy clenches his fist, he tells himself, before his fingers can get too cold.


	12. Trust

Raven doesn’t want to have anything to do with politics.

She made it clear years ago, back when their people still called themselves The Hundred — nothing more than a band of ragtag, godforsaken kids squabbling with a band of ragtag, godforsaken grown-ups. When Bellamy thinks back to those days, he almost wants to laugh at how pitiful they were, running on rotten fruit and sheer stubbornness. No wonder Raven wants no part in their politics. She knows all too well what they’re made of.

They have rules now, stuff that looks great on motivational leaflets they print on the rare occasion when there are resources to spare. It’s quite a mouthful: just laws and fair trials, juries of peers and free elections, and other fancy things Bellamy used to read about as a kid. It makes him feel better to think they’re building something, though he knows better than to brag when he visits Raven.

"Those property laws are going to blow up in your face," she whispers as Bellamy leaves a trail of kisses down her neck.

"What would you have me do, forbid private property? We can’t share everything forever," he says against her skin, hands sliding under the coarse cloth of her shirt.

"Pass something against hoarders," she advises firmly, then gasps as Bellamy’s tongue circles her nipple. "And stop fighting Kane."

(When they build a fire later that night, Raven ostentatiously uses the latest government leaflet as kindling.)


	13. Truth

Raven is fine.

That's what she tells herself every morning before she gets up, biting down a hiss, her hard, makeshift mattress practically looking at her mockingly. Sometimes she seriously considers sleeping on the ground, but Abby forbade it, and if there is anyone on this planet Raven is willing to obey willingly, it's Abby Griffin.

Okay, maybe not obey, but at least seriously consider her suggestions, especially when it comes to spinal injuries.

So every morning Raven grits her teeth, puts on her shoes, and gets out of her tent. There are things she has to relearn, things about feet and hips and body weight, and steps light like feathers. She's been doing this for some time, and by now she can almost circle the entire camp without crying. At least once a week, she's in a good enough mood to acknowledge Bellamy's encouraging smile when he passes her her breakfast from the common basket.

See? Perfectly fine.

She made herself a chair to sit on as she works, fixes one broken thing after another until her mind is all screws and wires, nice and cool to the touch, clear in purpose and structure; the perfect escape.

"You're fixing those radios like your life depended on it," says Jasper one day, and Raven gives him a look that makes him shut up for a week.

(What he really means is: "You're fixing them because you can't fix yourself," and if that's what he thinks, he can take his projections, then go and fuck himself.)

Sometimes when Raven tries to get up after work, she places her left foot wrong, and falls back into the chair with a sharp cry, but that's okay. She'll learn.

(Some nights she freezes mid-motion, a painful cramp gripping her back with what feels like twenty five iron fingers. She can see her fingers turn into claws and curl over Bellamy's skin, but his eyes, she knows, are on her face, following the tense muscles of her jaw.

He doesn't flip them over, doesn't lift her up or sit up to let her lean on him. He simply stays frozen with her, motionless apart from a hand slowly rubbing her skin right above the scar. 

You see, Raven really is fine. She never makes the same wrong move twice.


	14. Cleaning wounds -- Bellamy

It's just a cut, Bellamy tells himself. No need to be a baby about it.

Raven sits on a stool pressing a cloth to the wound on her arm, her face ashen, her eyes fixed on something far away. She lost quite some blood, but the wound is shallow, Clarke said, and will be fine; we have others who were more severely wounded, so just make yourself useful, Bellamy, and take care of this.

Right.

“You know, for a war lord, you're really squeamish about blood,” quips Raven weakly.

“Hush, or you'll have to wait until Princess is done saving the world.”

“Very funny.”

Well, Bellamy's not laughing.

Raven keeps still when he carefully dabs the skin around the wound with a damp towel. The cut really is shallow, but it's long, almost from elbow to shoulder, a 

(close call, too close, fuck) 

streak of luck – this could've been her right hand, and then she'd have some trouble operating those belowed screwdrivers of hers. As it is, the injury will just be a minor inconvenience until it heals completely.

“All set,” says Bellamy flippantly, and Raven gets up with a slight wince. Everything is fine, Bellamy reminds himself. Worse things happen in battle, and he should know. He's been reading about them since he was five.

(Too bad the books never mentioned how hard it would be to stop his hands from shaking. But then, they left out other important stuff as well.)

He isn't fully conscious of pulling Raven close and burying his face in her shirt, but to be fair, he probably would've done it anyway.


	15. Cleaning wounds -- Raven

When Raven sees Bellamy lying on an infirmary bed in a very impressive pool of blood, at first she is convinced it’s not his. He’s always been incredibly lucky; no matter what they go through, Raven always finds whole, unblemished skin under blood and grime when she peels off his shirt at night. She learned to depend on this.

So this simply can’t be his blood.

“Get on your feet,” she says in her best cheerful voice. “We’ve got work to do.”

That gets his attention, makes him blink groggily before his eyes finally focus on her.

“Yeah, right on it,” he manages with a slur, as if he’s drunk. Then he makes rather a pathetic attempt to prop himself up on his arms.

Raven is by his bed in a blink of an eye.

“What happened?”

“We went hunting, and some idiot shot me in the leg. It’s just a scratch, Clarke already stitched me up and gave me something for the pain.”

This makes her stop, stop and finally let out a breath. Her eyes find a fresh bandage on Bellamy’s thigh, and from the surge of emotions that start running through her head, she picks the most familiar.

“You took guns to the woods?” she barks, and berates him in earnest; for wasting ammo and making noise, for enlisting people too dumb to manage triggers, and for leaving trails too easy to follow. She breaks her back making bullets, and there isn’t enough gunpowder, and if anyone attacks them now…

She’s still prickly when she wraps her arm around Bellamy’s waist, and helps him walk to his tent.


	16. Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: lovers, fight, thirsty, I love you, slow sex.

Sex is a battle.

It’s something Bellamy knows without learning; something obvious, and clear, and wonderful in its simplicity. I win. You lose. Pay up. That’s how it’s always been. With Raven, there is always a bit of confusion, because most of the time it’s really hard to tell who’s winning, but still. Bellamy knows a clash when he sees one.

So whenever he shows up in her tend, head empty of words and mouth empty of promises, he knows this is something else.

(Something he wants rather than needs.)

Raven is still on the weaker side, and in a bit of pain, so Bellamy is careful, oh so careful – careful with talking, with asking and whispering, and with the way his hand covers hers as he speaks. Raven is nothing if not understanding of cravings, and this is hardly the first time.

She starts taking off her clothes without hesitation.

Bellamy isn’t sure why this is so important to him; hell, he can’t even think of a name for what they’re doing, even though he knows a word for every single act they perform. The only thing he’s sure of is that this is what they do when the fight goes out of them.

Oh, who cares.

They kiss slowly, and when Raven gives Bellamy’s shoulder a gentle push, he doesn’t need to be asked twice. He feels heat rise up on his face as he lets himself slide south, and he hopes Raven sees it, hopes she feels his shaky fingers and hears his heavy breath. This isn’t a battle, he tries to tell her, because he surrendered already.

He eats her out the way she likes it, slowly and so thoroughly she can’t bear the slightest touch for long minutes afterwards. There are words escaping his mouth at every gasp, but he doesn’t care, because the pleasure of letting them fall is overwhelming, almost as overwhelming as Raven’s hand on his head or her feet on his shoulders. When she comes, it’s with a cry that makes him shudder, and he doesn’t know how to tell her, so he keeps whispering nonsense against her skin, _Raven, Raven, Raven, Raven_.

Maybe if they do this every night, eventually he’ll understand.


	17. A kiss + Searching the woods

When they were kids, Raven used to imagine the woods. It was something she knew she'd never see anyway, so she didn't exactly spend hours anticipating trees, but she did try to imagine them: a forest filled with fairly tale creatures, like squirrels and birds; and illuminated by bright sunlight with a touch of green.

In hindsight, she should've reconsidered the light.

The winter sun is dull around her, and as she tries to brave the chilly wind in search of something, anything, she doesn't spare a moment to think about the beauty surrounding her. All she can do is be annoyed with people of the past – those who spent time and money and effort to make books and movies that taught her to crave something so cold.

“There is nothing here,” she says in frustration. “We already picked this area clean. No game, either. If we want food, we need to go further.”

Bellamy nods with a sigh, then looks down on his feet. He doesn't like to be far from camp, and for a good reason. Raven is far from a hundred percent yet, and while she can walk around and look for nuts or roots, she'll be little use if they run into people. 

It's so unexpected Raven doesn't have time to think how to react, even though Bellamy moves so slowly. He walks up to her, wraps his free arm around her waist, and places an absent-minded kiss on her forehead.

“Yeah, let's go,” he says into her hair. “I think I remember a map showing a stream somewhere out there. There might be fish, but it's a bit of a climb. Do you think you can manage?”

Raven nods, but closes her eyes just for five seconds before she lets go. This has happened before, and she knows from experience she'll start feeling awkward as soon as she puts a few feet between herself and Bellamy, so first she's going to indulge herself in a few moments of warmth.

That's all they both have.


End file.
